Welcome to America
by ekroman
Summary: When a new girl arrives at McKinley, where will she fit in? Glee club of course! "Definitely not another Carmel High transfer!" we took one look at each other and broke down laughing.


**This idea just popped into my head, and when I finally forced myself to end the chapter so I could post it, I had already written 4,194 words! My old record is just about 1,700 words for one chapter! Yay :D**  
**There is 2 *-markings in this story and you will find the explanations in the end. Feel free to scroll down and read it before you read the chapter itself.**  
**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. If I did, Artie and Tina would still be together, and Artie's ReWalk wouldn't have broken.**

* * *

I opened the door to William McKinley High School. This was where I was going to spend the next two years of my life. Or part of it at least. I had never been a high school student before, so starting out as a junior was definitely going to take some getting used to. It was odd to be here at last, and I was still waiting for my alarm to go off and wake me to the first day of 2.g*, but it didn't happen, and I soon found myself standing in a corridor full of other students. I had been told to go to the Principals office before my first period, but so far I hadn't been able to find my way. I dug into my coat pocket and fished out my iPod to pause the song currently blasting rather loudly into my right ear, the other ear bud hanging loosely over my right shoulder. My mother had warned me to keep the iPod with me until I got access to a locker where I could lock it away, so I placed it back into my coat pocket and looked around for any sign of Principal Figgins' office. After another 5 minutes of searching and finding nothing, I decided to ask for directions. Since I didn't know anyone yet, I thought it would be safest to ask a teacher, but there were no teachers to be seen. I sighed and headed for the nearest student standing alone. Less people meant less embarrassment, and I was still very self conscious about my accent. It was a dead giveaway that I wasn't just a transfer from one of the other local high schools, but a transfer from somewhere much further away.

"Excuse me," I said clearing my throat to the girl's attention "I wondered if you could tell me how to find Principal Figgins' office?"

"You new here girl? Sure don't remember seeing you around before" she grinned at me from her small height. "I'm Mercedes Jones, and you are?" she offered me her hand, and I gladly shook it, happy that she didn't seem to notice my accent. Maybe I was just being paranoid.

"Emilie Petersen," I introduced myself, "and yes, I am new. It's my first day actually."

"Well it's nice to meet you Em- Emili- Emilia?" I laughed at the faces she made as she tried to pronounce my name.

"You can call me Emily if you want," I said to her, "or just Em."

She nodded. "Well should we get you to Figgins' office?" she said, still frowning slightly.

"That would be great, thanks." I smiled gratefully at her. Just as we were about to walk off in the same direction I had come from, another voice called out from behind us.

"Mercedes, wait!"

I turned around to see a boy walking towards us in a very fast pace, but never running. He was immaculate clad, and his voice was very high pitched.

"Keep up with us Kurt, I need to get this one to the Principals office," Mercedes yelled back to him. He caught up with us, just as we were about to turn the corner to another hallway.

"Jeez Mercedes, what's with the sudden hurry?" he asked, panting slightly. That was when he seemed to notice me.

"Hey, you I don't know. Are you new?" I blushed to the roots of my hair, because his high pitched voice definitely attracted some stares. Stares that soon turned to me.

"Ehm, yeah. Emily." I said, giving him a small wave.

"I'm Kurt Hummel," he said, clearly checking out my dressing abilities, and I felt my face heat up for the second time that very minute. I was wearing a simple pair of black jeans, a dark blue top and an oversized shirt with buttons down the front. The shirt was made out of light blue jeans fabric. I was wearing all my regular bracelets. 3 representing my old Boarding School from back home, one supporting breast cancer and a holiday gift from my old roommate. My shoes were red with white laces, representing the colors of my country. They weren't exactly pretty, but they reminded me of home, and that was enough for me.

"Guys, we better get going. I don't want to be late for Spanish again. Mr. Schue already has his eye on me, and I need a good grade in Spanish to make up for my horrible grades in math." Mercedes had started to walk again, so I followed her. Apparently Kurt followed us as well, because he kept talking to Mercedes.

"I already said that I can tutor you if you want. That's what friends are for, right?"

"Kurt that's very sweet of you, but between Glee, my family and homework, I simply don't have time for tutoring. And I'm not going to use it after the summer holidays. Oh here we are." We had stopped in front of a door that clearly led into the office I had been looking for all morning.

"Thanks you guys," I said, turning to open the door.

"Hey, do you need us to stay?" Mercedes called out. I looked back at her and Kurt, and then down at the wristwatch I was wearing.

"Nah, I think I can handle it, but thanks anyways." They both nodded at me before leaving. I entered through the glass door, where I was met with what was clearly a waiting area. No one was sitting in any of the couches, so I walked up to a lady sitting at a desk, typing away on her computer. I cleared my throat to get her attention.

"Hi. I'm supposed to see Principal Figgins before my first class. My name is Emily."

"Take a seat dear," she said looking up and motioning for the couches. I sat down to wait. After a few minutes a door, across from the one I had entered through, opened to reveal a man I assumed was the Principal.

"Miss Peterson?" he asked with a heavy accent. I smiled to myself and nodded, getting up.

"Please follow me." I did as asked, and soon found myself sitting in front of a huge desk, Principal Figgins looking at me from the other side of the desk.

"So, Miss Peterson, you will be joining our junior year, is that correct?" I nodded eagerly, making sure to smile and look friendly. Might as well make a good impression.

"Yeah, that's what I've been told. To be honest I don't know much about American high schools. Back home we only have 3 years in 'high school'" I said, using my fingers to emphasize the last two words.

"Well then this schedule should fit you. Am I correct that you are not taking Spanish?" he handed me a piece of paper with a lot of letters on it. I nodded to show that I was indeed not going to take Spanish classes.

"Yeah, I've never done Spanish before, so I figured it would be too advanced for me on this level."

"And have you taken any other secondary languages?"

"Well technically English is my secondary language, but I did German for 4 years as well."

"Well we offer German as well if you want to continue."

"Please no. It's been two years, and I never really liked the language. I was only learning it because it was forced. And I'd like to have a little extra time for my school work, so I can get used to learning in English."

He smiled and nodded, seemingly happy with my reasons for not taking German.

"Very well Miss Peterson. You can go now. Your first class starts in 10 minutes, and I need you to get all your teachers to sign these slips today." He handed me a few pieces of paper. I thanked him and took the papers before walking out the door. I walked into the hallway again, and found myself completely lost for I don't know which time that day. There were only a few students in sight and none of them looked particularly friendly. I sighed and turned right to walk down the hallway, but walked into something shin-height. I looked down to see a boy about my age, wearing old fashioned clothing and glasses. I quickly realized that he was sitting in a wheelchair, and that it had been his footrest I had walked into.

"Sorry!" we both said at the same time. I laughed and shook my head.

"No, it was me. I wasn't watching my steps," I said blushing. Look at me, walking into the kid already in a wheelchair. So much for good first impressions.

The boy smiled at me, before answering. "Well I should have watched my… Footrest?" I nodded slightly, grimacing as I bent down to rub my shins. That was definitely going to leave a bruise, but I bruise like my life depends on it, so I'm used to the odd yellow or blue marks on my body.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Are you hurt? Do you need to see the nurse?"

"No it's okay." I laughed. "It's just a bruise or two."

"Are you sure?" the boy asked, sounding unconvinced.

"Yeah, don't worry about it. But what about you? Are you okay?"

"Probably."

"Probably?" I said, "How can you not know if you're okay?"

"My legs are pretty much dead." He said grimly, bending down to poke his right ankle. "No feeling."

Not only do I walk into the kid already in a wheelchair, I just have to go and ask him a question that clearly makes him uncomfortable. Great. Just great.

"I'm so sorry!" I said, "I didn't mean to be mean or offensive or something like that. Sorry."

He smiled up at me. "It's okay. You couldn't know. I'm Artie by the way. Artie Abrams."

"Emily Petersen." I said, taking the gloved hand he's offering me, and shaking it.

"Are you new? I don't think I've seen you around before?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's my first day."

"So how are you liking it so far?"

"So far I've talked to 4 people other than you, two of them being Principal Figgins and his secretary. I haven't even to my first class yet."

"What do you have now?" he asked, trying to look at the schedule in my hand. I handed it to him.

"English with someone called Ms. Wilson. I'm a junior."

"Me too," he said, handing me my schedule again. "Follow me, we have first period together."

I followed him as he began wheeling himself down the hallway in the exact opposite direction of where I had been going when I ran into him.

"So who else did you talk to?" he asked after about a minute.

"I think her name was Mercedes. And then a guy with a really high pitched voice." I looked down at him to see if he knew who I was talking about, and he grinned back at me.

"Kurt Hummel?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think that was his name. Do you know them?"

"We're in glee club together; they are some of my best friends."

"Glee club?"

"Yeah. Show choir. Didn't they have a glee club on your old school?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"I don't know. I don't think so. And it definitely wasn't called a glee club."

"Well basically we meet up almost every day after school in the choir room. We sing and dance," he pauses, "or some of us dance." I wondered if he was referring to himself, but he interrupted my train of thoughts.

"We compete and everything. We actually placed 12th in Nationals last year, but we hope to place even higher this year." I just nodded.

"Seems like fun."

"It's the best! You get to be yourself in glee club. No one is judging you because you look or act or talk differently. They see past things like my chair and Kurt's… Way of dressing. We are human beings just like everyone else in there. It's nice." He finished with a small smile.

"That certainly sounds nice," I said, my accent becoming more and more pronounced.

"So where did you transfer from?" Artie asked. I was just about to answer him when I felt my phone vibrate. I retrieved it from my pocket and looked at the display.

"Sorry, but it's my mom. I better answer it." He nodded to show that he understood, and I opened my phone, propping it up against my right ear.

"Emilie… Ja.. Nej ikke endnu… Engelsk… Jeg bliver virkelig nødt til at lægge på. Jeg vil helst ikke komme for sent til første time. Det skal jeg nok… Ja mor… Jep, vi ses."** I hung up and checked the time.

"Artie, do you know the time? I forgot to change the time on my phone, so it says 1:57 pm, but somehow I think that's wrong." I laughed a little, until I realized that we had stopped moving. I looked around, but I couldn't find the classroom.

"Why did we stop? Where is the classroom?" I looked down at the boy beside me, and I couldn't help laughing when I saw his face. It was a mixture of curiosity, disbelief, suspicion and surprise.

"What was THAT about?" he said, when my laughter seemed to wake him. I decided to play the innocent card.

"What? The phone call? That was just my mom. She wanted to know if I had made it here in time. Why?"

"Please tell me you weren't speaking English, because if you were, I think I'm turning crazy. I didn't understand a word." He looked so lost, that I couldn't help but laugh again.

"Don't worry," I said after I had calmed down enough to talk, "it wasn't English." He just proceeded to look at me until I gave him an explanation. "Danish," I said.

He nodded. "So I guess you aren't just another transfer from Carmel High then?" he asked, starting to roll down the corridor again, but before I could answer, he turned and rolled into a room on the left side of the corridor. I followed him in, and saw him park his chair in front of a table just inside the door. I walked up to the front of the room, where a kind looking woman in her mid thirties was unpacking her back. She looked up when I approached her desk.

"Miss Peterson?" she asked. I nodded and handed her one of the slips of paper the Principal had given me.

"Yes Miss. Principal Figgins asked me to have you sign this."

"Of course." She signed it and gave it back to me with a smile. "Just find a free seat."

I thanked her and turned around to find a free seat. Luckily Artie was still sitting alone.

"Do you mind?" I said, walking over to him. He shook his head and smiled.

"Not at all. I'm afraid I'll take up a little more space that the others though," he said, pointing to his wheels with an apologetic look on his face. I just shrugged and sat down.

"I can get close enough to the table to reach. That's good enough for me."

"Okay class. You'll be working on your own today. You can go as soon as you've gotten the assignment" Ms. Wilson said. I turned to the boy next to me.

"I hope you know what we are doing, because this is nothing like English lessons back home."

Artie laughed. "It can't be that much different, can it?"

"English lessons back home were mostly the teacher translating everything word for word for those who didn't understand English, so for the rest of us it was basically free time. The teacher who taught the other English class in my year didn't even speak English that well. It was kind of pathetic actually. Sometimes German lessons were more exciting. And that's saying something coming from me."

"German, English, Danish. How many languages do you know?" Artie asked, counting on his fingers.

"Those 3 and a bit of Chinese. I was studying Chinese before we moved here, but I never got to finish it, so it doesn't really count. I'm not exactly fluent in German either. Or English for that matter." I shrugged. "I'm just trying to do my best. I might mess up a word once in a while."

"We all do that once in a while. Especially Brittany," the look on Artie's face was guilty when he added the last part.

"Who's Brittany?"

"Cheerleader and glee club member. And my ex," he said with a grim look on his face.

"Ouch" were all I could say. Artie nodded and turned around to get something in his bag. I realized that I didn't have my books yet. I raised my hand.

"Yes, Miss Peterson?"

"Ms. Wilson, I don't have my books yet."

"Oh, they should all be in your locker, Miss Peterson."

"But I haven't been assigned a locker yet."

"Your locker number should be printed on your schedule," Artie said, turning around to look at me again. I furrowed my brows and looked down at my schedule.

**Student name: Emilie B. Petersen  
Locker number: 213  
Student should note that a mandatory locker check takes place every 2 weeks (14 days)  
**  
"Ms. Wilson, do I need my books for this lesson?" I asked, raising my hand again.

"You should be good with just sharing Artie's book if he's okay with that. You only have to read one page today," she turned to address everyone, "okay guys, you'll read page 56 and then you'll go to the library to pick up a book that fits the requirements I've written on the whiteboard. You can spend the rest of the lesson reading and taking notes. I expect a 2-page book report on my table in 2 weeks." I found a notebook and a pencil in my bag and started to write down the requirements for the book.

**Book requirements:  
At least 150 pages  
Fiction  
Written before 2000  
Original language have to be English**

"Here," Artie handed me his book, "just read this page," he said, pointing to the left page.

"Thanks," I said, taking the book from him.I handed the book back to him when I had read the page. He closed it and turned around to place it in his bag.

"To the library?" he asked when I'd done the same. I nodded, standing up, note book still in my hand.

"You lead the way," I said. He wheeled himself out of the class room and out into the corridor where he turned left. He led me through a maze of hallways, and soon we were standing outside the library.

"Do you have any books in mind?" he asked, wheeling himself close to the door and reaching for the door handle. I took a step forward to hold the door.

"Thanks," he said, rolling through the door. I followed him inside.

"I was thinking Harry Potter. The first book should fit the requirements," I held up my note book, "and I already know it by heart, so I can focus on the book report instead. What about you?"

"I don't know. There's a few I really want to read, and I'm sure that one of them fits the requirements, but I kinda can't get to them." I looked down at him with my brows furrowed in confusion. "Top shelf," he said.

"Well I'll get them for you, if you want."

"If it's not too much of a problem."

"Artie, it's just reaching out and taking the book from the shelf. Why would that be a problem?" I realized too late, that I might have said something wrong; from the way he suddenly picked up the speed just to stop a few meters away. He placed his hands in his lap and kept his eyes firmly planted on something in front of him. I took a few tentative steps towards to him.

"I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't have said it like that." No answer. I bit my lip. "I-I'll just… Leave." I turned around and headed for the door.

"Wait." I looked over my left shoulder to see Artie rolling towards me. I turned around completely just as he reached me.  
"I'm sorry," we chorused. Wow, was this turning into some kind of habit?

"I should have watched my words," I said, shrugging. He shook his head and smiled.

"You didn't mean any harm, and frankly I've had worse things coming my way," his smile turned sad for a few seconds, before he spoke up again. "So Harry Potter, eh?" I laughed at his attempt to start a conversation, happy that the awkward atmosphere seemed to have passed.

"Please tell me you've read them, or I might just lose faith in humanity," I said with a somber expression. His eyes widened for a second before he nodded.

"O-Of course. So you should we find some books? We can read them here in the library, in the study corner." I nodded and followed Artie as he led the way through the maze of shelves. He stopped in the fiction section and rolled back and forth a few times before he found my book. He took it from the shelf and reached backwards to give it to me.

"Thanks," I said, taking the book,"so which book do you want?"

"I was thinking 'Angels and Demons' by Dan Brown. It was published in 2000, so I just hope Ms. Wilson is okay with that."

"Why wouldn't she be?" I said, walking to the far end of the shelf to look for the book. "If it's published in 2000, then it's probably written before 2000, and that was technically the requirement." Artie laughed, and I huffed. "Hey, that's perfect logic, thank you very much!" I found the book I was looking for and grabbed it. I walked back to Artie and gave him the book.

"Any other books you want now?" I asked.

"Nope," he said, holding up the book I had just given him, "but thanks."

"No problem," I grinned, "and hey, I could definitely say the same. This place is huge!"

"You get used to it," Artie placed the book in his lap and grabbed the wheels of his chair, "but should we find somewhere to sit?"

"Sure," I said smiling down at him. He led the way to a group of round tables surrounded by plushy-looking chairs. I sat down in the closest one, as Artie parked his chair across from me. He put the book on the table and bent down to fiddle with something, before turning one of the other chairs a bit so it was half-facing him. He then transferred himself smoothly from his wheelchair to the chair identical to the one I was sitting in.

"Impressive," I grinned. He shrugged, and was just about to answer, when a petite girl dropped into the only vacant chair.

"Hey Artie, I just saw Mr. Schue walk down the hall with a envelope that looked suspiciously like the one last year's competition for Sectionals came in." She took a deep breath before she continued. "Hey, what are you doing out of your chair? You never leave your chair when you're alo-" she stopped abruptly and turned her head to follow Artie's gaze. He was looking pointedly at me, and as soon as the other girl caught my eye, she blushed and dropped her head to her hands in embarrassment. I looked at Artie who just shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Emily, meet Tina Cohen-Chang, Tee, meet Emily. She just transferred to McKinley." Tina mumbled something incoherent into her hands and Artie laughed.

"What was that, Tee?"

She lifted her head to scowl at him. "I just embarrassed myself big time, and you have the guts to be laughing. Arthur Benjamin Abrams, you are dead to me." This didn't seem to affect Artie who just laughed harder than before, even though a slight blush had appeared on his face at the use of his full name.

"If you don't stop laughing, I'll run off with your chair." This statement seemed to sober Artie up.

"You wouldn't!" Tina smirked playfully.

"How can you be so sure about that, Abrams?"

Now it was Artie time to smirk. "Because I have this," he said, showing her his phone. She furrowed her brows in confusion until she realized what was on the screen. Her eyes widened with fear, and he grinned.

"Thought so," he said, placing the phone back into his pocket.

I snickered at the smug look on Artie's face, but silenced myself when the other girl turned towards me.

"Who were you again?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

"Emily," I said, giving a little wave. "I just transferred. It's my first day here at McKinley."

"Another Carmel High transfer?" she asked skeptically.

"Definitely not another Carmel High transfer," Artie and I chorused. We took one look at each other and broke down laughing, while Tina watched us quizzically. This couldn't end too badly, I decided.

* * *

**2.g*= We don't have High School in Denmark, but we have the similar "Gymnasium" where you go for 3 years. 2.g is second year, so it would be either sophomore or junior. I decided to make Emilie a junior for different reasons.**

**"Emilie… Ja.. Nej ikke endnu… Engelsk… Jeg bliver virkelig nødt til at lægge på. Jeg vil helst ikke komme for sent til første time. Det skal jeg nok… Ja mor… Jep, vi ses."****

**"Emilie... Yes.. No not yet... English... I really have to go. I'd rather not be last for first period. I will... Yes mom... Yep, see you."**

**^She's on the phone with her mom, so of course she would speak Danish. If her mom shows up in future chapters, I will probably have her speaking mostly English to make the story more flowing.**

**I decided to build this girl on myself. My real first name _is _Emilie while Petersen is my moms maiden name. I went as far as googling pictures of characters in the WMHS library to see how much I would be able to reach. Turns out I am exactly the same height as Matthew Morrison (William Schuester) and he is just about eye level with the top shelf.**

**Please leave a review!**


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